


Awkward

by HannibalsAngel



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, Oops, Peterick, Ugh, all fluff, college student frank, the only work of mine with fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:32:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibalsAngel/pseuds/HannibalsAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank asks Patrick for help in his media project - which is to see how people respond to certain tasks. He's in a room, when his project partner Pete comes in. They're asked to do simple things (non-sexual) to each other, then it pretty much gets awkward (if it wasn't already)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Awkward

Patrick was asked to participate in a school project fro the kid who lived below him. The project was about human interaction - how people respond to different assignments. He agreed to do it because the kid had no one else.  


Patrick sat in a room alone, waiting for his partner to show up. The room was dimly lit and small. He sat on the cushiony couch and looked around. The kid came in and held the door open. A heavily tattooed guy came in and the kid quickly closed the door behind him.  


He was tall, nicely built, and, in simple terms, good looking. He flashed an awkward smiled and asked if he could sit next to him.  


"Yeah of course," Patrick scooted to the end. He was extremely shy and refused to look at him. The kid came back to break the unbearable silence, camera in hand.  


"Hey. I'm Frank and I'm a media student. My teacher said I need a video depicting how people respond differently. They're easy and nothing explicit."  


Both nodded and watched silently as Frank set up his camera. He turned on a studio light and began recording. "Okay, so first things' first, introduce yourselves."  


Patrick turned to the man and held out his shaky hand, "I'm Patrick."  


"Pete." He was nonchalant and outgoing, two things Patrick was not.  


They awkwardly pulled their hands back and sat in silence. "What's the first thing you noticed about the other?"  


Patrick looked over his shoulder at Pete, who just smiled sweetly, "I noticed his shyness when he took a good look at me."  


Patrick forced a giggle to mask his embarrassment, "yeah, I, uh, I noticed his tattoos first."  


Frank took notes as they spoke, and without looking up, "Pete touch Patrick's face."  


Both men's faces dropped. Pete glanced at Frank, then back at Patrick, "am I allowed to touch your face?"  


Frank looked up and smirked at the gesture. He certainly didn't expect him to ask.  


Patrick nodded slowly and Pete's hand slowly rose to his cheek. His hand fit perfectly over his cheek and he held it there. He ran his thumb across the corner of his mouth and traced his finger over his jaw. He was touching every inch of his face; it was as if he was completely lost in Patrick. He didn't seem to hear Frank tell Patrick what to do, and he didn't stop until he looked at him and smiled.  


His hand jerked away and sat in his lap. "If you will, Pete." Frank swung his pen up, motioning for something.  


"I'm sorry?"  


"Your shirt," Frank smiled, "take it off."  


He didn't hesitate and his shirt was balled up neatly on the floor beside the couch. He wasn't sure what was happening until Patrick asked if it was okay to touch him.  


Patrick slowly eased his hand on Pete's tattoos. He started with the owl on his forearm. He traced the shading and moved up immediately to his barbed wire tattoo. He crisscrossed every line of wire that ran over his collar. Pete was calm and, for the most part, wanted Patrick to touch him. He felt a connection with him and didn't mind him going over his tattoos.  


Patrick took his hand back and blushed. Frank smiled at the progress, "can he touch the tattoo on your lower stomach? The bat one?"  


Before he could protest, Pete was yeah and stared at Patrick, waiting for him to do it.  


Patrick looked at the tattoo, "I don't think I can do that, I mean, look where it's at, it's invasion of privacy and -"  


Pete grabbed his hand and put it over the bat. Patrick stared in horror as his hand pushed against the tattoo. His jaw hung open as he tried to apologize, and Frank laughed.  


"Alright that's enough." Frank took remaining notes and pulled out the last task. "Put your shirt back on."  


Pete released Patrick's hand and put his shirt on. Patrick's face was beyond red and burning, and he shoved his hand in his lap.  


"One last thing before I let you go." Frank looked up and smirked, "I need you guys to kiss."  


"No," Patrick blurted out. "I can't do that."  


Pete sat back and rubbed the back of his head as he watched them argue about it. After a few minutes of arguing, he decided to step in, "alright. Patrick let's just get this over with. He's not gonna stop let's go."  


"I am not kissing a stranger."  


"You just touched my tattoos."  


"For the project -"  


"This is for the project let's just do it, I got somewhere to be."  


Patrick looked over at Frank, who buried his head in his notebook, laughing. He looked back at Pete who was serious about the project. He sighed, "fine."  


Pete raised his brow; he didn't think he'd do it. He licked his lips and waited for Patrick to get comfortable. Frank watched from behind his notebook as they leaned in. Patrick's heart beat so fast, he swore it skipped a few. He closed his eyes and hoped he didn't miss. Their foreheads banged hard and they pulled back, rubbing their heads. Pete smirked as he watched Patrick's face get redder as he stumbled his words to apologize. Frank was laughing so hard he dropped his notebook.  


Pete stared at Patrick as he covered his face with his hands and cursed at himself. He looked around the room; watched Frank try to pick up his notebook, giggling, watched the empty walls record the misery. He sighed and bowed his head, then looked over at Patrick, who was still embarrassed beyond comprehension. "Patrick?"  


He slowly looked up, "yeah?"  


"I'm gonna kiss you now."  


He held his mouth open and just nodded.  


Pete leaned in quick, not allowing his partner to prepare, or even brace himself. Pete pushed himself so fast against Patrick he accidentally pushed him on his back. He pulled his lips from his' and just held himself above him, "sorry."  


Patrick smiled, "no, d-don't be."  


Frank observed the two and wrote down everything he seen and thought. Pete slowly lifted himself off of him and held his hand to pull him up. "Anything else, Frank?"  


He smugly smirked, "nope. The project is done."

Outside, Patrick fumbled to get into his car when Pete came from nowhere, scaring his coat out of his hand. Pete bent down and lied it on the hood of his car, “going anywhere important?”  


“No, not really, just home. Why? Do you need something?”  


Pete rubbed his neck, “you know, I kinda wanted to ask you, if you want to, like, y’know.” Pete’s face burned and Patrick was completely clueless. This was gonna be a lot harder than he thought.  


“Look, we had a connection in there and I wanted to know, if, like, you wanted to -”  


“Date?”  


Pete looked at him wide-eyed, and Patrick couldn’t help but to bow his head and nod. He looked back up at Pete who waited for an answer. “Sure, but if only you let me see the rest of your tattoos.”  


Pete laughed, “yeah, but you gotta show me your’s first.”  


“I don’t have any.”  


“As far as I know.”  


“And,” Patrick crossed his arms, “how do you expect to find my ‘hidden’ tattoos?”  


Pete nudged his shoulder, “by taking you out as many times as possible.”  


“And you have the money?”  


“I’ll get the money.”  


“The time?”  


“I’ll make the time.”  


Patrick’s smile was so wide, it made his face hurt. He unfolded his hands and shoved them in his pockets, “fine. You’ll just have to wait until I’m free.” He wrote on a paper and handed it to Pete. He got in his car and started it up.  


Pete leaned on the open door, “how long would that be?”  


“As long as it takes you.” He closed the door and waved. He drove off, and when he turned the corner, Pete opened the paper. All it had were numbers, not a phone number, but an address he’d never heard of. Written on the bottom was a line and a music note, and written smaller and in script, “please don’t take long.”


End file.
